


some days he surprises her

by mmacy



Category: Madam Secretary
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-10
Updated: 2020-11-10
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:27:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27491179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mmacy/pseuds/mmacy
Summary: russell jackson's response to elizabeth's sudden absence.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 10





	some days he surprises her

**Author's Note:**

> this story is ver dear to my heart...

AN: here’s another of my one day one shots (written in one sitting). This is set near the end of season one. To all my fellow strong women this is dedicated to you. 1 in 10 women suffer from endometriosis, and on average it takes 6-10 years to receive a diagnosis (after first experiencing symptoms). Symptoms typically resolve after menopause. Keep in mind as you read that everyone has their own experience/symptoms. This story is particularly dear to my heart. Enjoy!

Madam Secretary   
Some days he surprises her, and today was most definitely one of those days

~MS~

“The unexpected moment is always sweeter.” -unknown

~MS~

He flips his wrist upward, checking the time before saying, “If that’s all Mr. President—”

“Actually sir.” Someone speaks up.

Russell turns his gaze to the Secretary of Defense. 

“There seems to be a Russian submarine off the coast of Alaska wandering a bit too close to our waters.” His lips fall to a frown. “Not close enough to take action, but enough to begin worrying.” Gordon explains. 

His eyes glance to his right, catching the gaze of the president as he leans back in his chair with a huff. He straightens, and then— “Update me if there’s a change.” He tells Gordon. He stands causing a chain reaction among the other occupants of the room. “If that’s all I think we’re done for the day.” Conrad announces. 

An array of ‘thank you Mr. President’ erupts as the members of the NSC pile out of the oval. 

“Gordon or I should contact Ostrov and get on top of this potential sub mess before it explodes.” Conrad tells him just before he takes a seat behind his desk.

“Of course, sir. I’ll set up the call.” Russell responds. 

He jots down a reminder to do so in his planner before he one handedly shuts his folder –the two sides of leather slap together. He takes a step up to the president’s desk and says, “Bess is really out again?” –her absence from the NSC meeting spoke volumes. 

Conrad glances up from the file he’s reading –the file among many that he’d placed on his desk earlier that morning— and nods. 

“That’s not normal.” He comments.

“Not for her, no.” the president agrees. 

He fiddles with the pen in his right hand, clicking the top. “Have you spoken to her?” 

Conrad shuts the file, moving the brief on the South China Sea to the bottom of the stack. “All she said was that she’s feeling under the weather.” He half shrugs. “I didn’t push it.” He adds. 

‘That’s worrisome.’ He wanted to say but before the words had the chance to roll off his tongue a knock sounded at the door.

“Come in Lucy.” The president calls, and a moment later his assistant walks through the doorway. 

“Mr. Jackson just a reminder from Adele that your 10:15 with Senator Morejon is in twenty minutes sir.” 

His eyebrows crease together as he deeply but briefly ponders her words for a mere moment. “Tell Adele to cancel the meeting.”

“Of course, sir.” Lucy replies before quickly making her exit from the room.

“That’ll go over well with the good senator.” The president jokes. 

He laughs. “Well, I may have a bigger problem on my hands.” He mutters.

~MS~

After he mumbles a quick hello to Matt as he signs the time log, he takes it upon himself to step through the always unlocked glass door –he guessed five guys with guns equivalently replaced the unlatched lock— to wait in the breezeway. 

It takes not three but four minutes before she appears in the entryway. 

The pit in his stomach seemed to instantaneously double in volume as he sized up her appearance. Her hair was askew –a few pieces sticking out in odd directions. Her eyes were tired, and her crumpled pajamas looked as if they’d been worn one too many times. 

“Russell.” She greets—the singular word comes out more as a question. “How can I—” She doesn’t have a chance to finish. He crosses through the doorway and into the foyer. “Come right on in.” She mutters; the sarcasm in her tone doesn’t phase him. 

“You’re home again.” He says as he makes his way towards the formal sitting area—the messy space which by the looks of it she’d been recently occupying. 

He hears the front door click shut before her bare feet pad against the hardwood floors as she follows. “Uh yeah.” She replies before she plops down on the sofa. 

“For the third day in a row.” He mutters as he takes the two containers along with the plastic spoon from the brown paper bag and places both on the table in front of her. 

“If I can count correctly then yes.” She teases before quickly adding, “What’s all this?” She questions, motioning her pointer finger above the food. 

“Lunch. Chicken noodle soup and a baguette.” He answers as he takes a seat in one of the two chairs across from her. “Devon and Blakely. I was told you liked their food?” 

“I do.” She assured. 

He nodded towards the soup. “Then go ahead, eat.”

She flashed him a watery smile. “That’s very kind of you, but I’m actually feeling nauseous.” 

He crosses his arms over his chest. “Why?” 

Her eyes narrow in on him. “Why?” She repeats.

“Why aren’t you at the office?” He clarifies.

“Everyone is entitled to a few sick days.” She turns her head, gazing at the large heap of files and documents stacked high on the floor. “But I really wouldn’t call them sick days.” She adds. 

“Of course everyone can take a couple of days off, but you’re not everyone. You’re the Secretary of State, and I need you at the State Department.” 

“Okay.” She mumbles.

He watches as she leans back against the couch cushions, pulling her legs up under her. “So?”

“So?” She questions back. A slight wince on her face disappears just as quickly as it’d appeared. 

“So why are you home and not at work?” 

She shrugs her shoulders to her ears and shakes her head –probably unbelieving that he’s pushing so much, but by now she should know him. “I’m not feeling well.” 

“You look fine.” He says.

She ducks her chin into her right shoulder. “That’s because I’m up to my nose in Ibuprofen, and muscle relaxers.” He barely catches her muffled words. She huffs, turns her head to the left to stare him in the eyes, and says, “I don’t want to be verbally attacked in my own home Russell so if that’s what you came to do you can show yourself out.” 

His hands shoot up to the sides of his head defensively, and then his lips upturn into a partial smile. “Look, I just need to know what’s going on because if something is wrong, I need to know about it.” He admits.

She frowns, and her fingers pull at the sleeve of her shirt. “You mean mentally?” 

Bingo. He thanked the gods above she finally got there without him having to completely spell it out for her. He gave her a sorry smile. “If something is wrong you can tell me.” –he’d hoped the therapist would help, but with Iran only three months ago he still worried. 

She leans forward, rips off a small piece of bread, plops it in her mouth, and slowly chews it over. She sits back and— “Don’t assume.” 

His face fell. That’s really all she was gonna give him?

She raises an eyebrow. “You really want to know?” 

And with her particular choice of words he should probably leave it alone, but— “Yes, I need to know so I can get on top of whatever—” He waves his hand motioning towards her. “—this is.” 

She licks her lips, swallows, and then— “It’s my period.” 

He stares at her over the top of his glasses. His mouth slightly parts in shock before he quickly claps his lips back together. “Not to be insensitive…” he pauses, choosing his words carefully. “but isn’t this a reoccurring thing, a once a month type thing that you should be accustomed to by now?” 

She glares at him, and oh god maybe he should get up and show himself out before she completely and utterly tells him off but then her scowl breaks and she chuckles. “I have endometriosis Russell.” She says seriously. 

“That should mean something to me shouldn’t it?” 

“It’s a condition…” She begins, but her face twists up in what seems like pain. She reaches forward and grabs the heating pad from the table before pressing it over her abdomen and then she turns her body, situating herself so the middle of her back is against the arm of the couch. “It’s a condition where there’s abnormal uterine lining outside the uterus.” She explains. “Some months are harder than others.” She half shrugs. “It’s very painful, almost as if your insides are being yanked downwards… among other things. But my case is minimal.” She looks downward at her hands for a moment before catching his eyes again. She clears her throat. “I’ll spare you the rest of the details.”

“Does your staff know?” He asks.

“Blake and Nadine.” She answers. “It’s not something I hide, but not something I feel the need to shout from the rooftops.” She says. 

He nods. 

“Well—” He stands. “I’m sorry to have bothered you Bess.”

She shakes her head. “No, I needed the break from reading through all those.” She points to the stack of files on the ground. 

He cracked a side smile. “We all need you back, so rest and feel better.”

She makes a move to stand, but he holds up a hand. “I can show myself out.” She relaxes further into the couch. 

He gets to the door and – “You better not treat me differently because of this.” 

“Not a chance.” He says, hand on the doorknob. 

“Thanks for lunch by the way.” He hears. He looks over his shoulder, already finding her back to work signing documents and reading through briefs. 

“Next time it’s on you.” He says, pulling the door open. 

He catches her chuckle as he exits the house, tugging the front door shut behind him. 

And after he signs the time log for the second time and waves Matt goodbye, he pulls his phone from his pocket and speed dials his number two –Carol. 

It rings once, twice, then–

“Hello.” His wife greets.

“Hi sweetheart.” He says.

“What’s wrong?” She asks.

“What do you know about endometriosis, and how can you help someone who has it?” He asks as he ducks into the backseat of the SUV.

~MS~

She yawns as her tired eyes follow him as he moves about their room. Her eyes fall closed, but pop open a moment later when her husband’s movement is replaced with stillness as he climbs into their bed. 

She sighs as she sits up, back resting against the headboard. She extends both her hands to him –her right takes the glass of water while he carefully sets the pill in her left. She throws the capsule back effortlessly, chasing it down with a big gulp of water before she hands the cup over to Henry. He leans to his right, placing it on his nightstand. 

“How are you feeling?” he questions.

She throws the third pillow behind her head over the side of the bed and onto the ground before laying back down. “Like my lower half is going to fall off.” She mutters. “Have I told you that I can’t wait for menopause?” She adds. 

“That bad?” He asks.

She moans and clutches her stomach as a particularly painful stab throbs throughout her lower abdomen. 

“I’m sorry.” He says as he leans over and kisses the side of her head. “Do you need me to get you anything?” He squeezes her shoulder.

“I’m fine.” She mutters painfully.

He sighs. “If you’re feeling this awful, I’m not going to Russia on Saturday.” He tells her. 

“Henry.” She complains, turning towards him.

“I’m not leaving you when you’re in this much pain.” He says.

She gives him a firm stare. “You’re going to Russia.” She pushes a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “I’ll be okay.” She adds.

“We’ll see.” He tells her as he bends to the right and flips his bedside lamp off.

She leans to the left to do the same but stops when a buzz sounds through the room –she instead reaches for her phone.

‘Conrad told me you won’t be in again tomorrow, so I assume you aren’t feeling much better. Carol told me turmeric tea with some honey works wonders. I’ll bring some over in the morning and we can discuss what’s going on with this Russian sub.’ 

She laughs when she reads the text.

“What?” Henry asks, probably wondering why she had this huge smile on her face as she stared at the screen of her phone.

“Russell Jackson is something else.” She comments. 

“God what’d he do this time?” He jokes.

She stretches her right arm over to the bedside table, setting down her phone and switching off the lamp. “Surprisingly something good.”


End file.
